Break with the Babysitters
by SideshowStarlet
Summary: The Babysitters Club makes a special trip to England to babysit four year-old Harry and Dudley, bringing along a few of their American charges in a flying Junk Bucket. Accidental magic, snark, friendships, snark, and a 'Prince Brat and the Whipping Boy'-esque case of mistaken identity ensue. HP/Andrew Brewer/Jenny P friendship. Harry also develops crush on Janine. Semi-crack-fic!
1. Chapter 1

Wednesday: 1737: the shrieking of Claudia Kishi's telephone interrupted yet another deep, meaningful silence filled with Sapphic undertones among the teenage girls sprawled out in various places throughout the ant-infested bedroom. That is to say, the silence was vanquished. The lesbian undertones were not.

Claudia put her feelings for Stacey temporarily on hold in order to listen more closely to the ringing of the telephone. "They're calling long-distance!" she shrieked excitedly.

"How can you tell without answering the phone?" Kristy asked as she scratched a bug bite on her left elbow. The other girls had previously mentioned to Claudia that the room had ants, but all this had accomplished was Claudia searching frantically under her bed for Aunt Peaches. Nobody wanted to be the friend who ruined the secret of Claudia's hidden junk food stash by informing Mr. and Mrs. Kishi of the insect problem in their daughter's room (Indeed, Mary Anne had burst into tears at the mere thought of such treachery.), and they had positively balked at the idea of asking Janine, Claudia's genius sister for ant-repelling tips which had allowed her to keep her own private junk food stash hidden for the past decade or so. Therefore, Claudia's guests/coworkers suffered their bug bites in silence.

"You can't hear the difference?!" Claudia asked, bemused. "The ringing sounds just like dolphins shrieking at each other! I can tell just by listening to the ring that the call is coming from somewhere in England!"

The girls listened closely. "It sounds exactly like an American phone call," said Mary Anne. "Maybe your hearing is extra-_extra_-sensitive, Claud."

"Kind of like Susan," said Kristy, referring to one of their old babysitting charges. "She had super sensitive hearing, too. She could probably hear the dolphins on the phone without picking it up."

"Susan has Autism," Mallory exposited.

There was a poignant silence, long enough for the average tweenaged female reader to read approximately thirty-seven paragraphs, as each girl contemplated their adventures with Susan, occasionally interspersed with interactions with some random Australian kids. Unfortunately, the phone stopped ringing during their silence.

"Darn it! We missed the call!" said Kristy. "Every missed call is missed business!"

Kristy sat and seethed for a few moments, glaring at each BSC member in turn. She glared extra hard at Mallory for no apparent reason. Suddenly, the phone rang again.

"It's the dolphins again!" shrieked Claudia. The rest of the girls screamed as if they had just seen a ghost.

Kristy calmed down first, managing to answer the phone with a businesslike "Baby-sitters Club, President Kristy Thomas speaking. Er, perhaps I should explain. You see, in America, we don't have a King or Queen. Our country is ruled by what is called a president. I'm not the president of a whole country. I just had the great idea to start the Baby Sitters Club, and so…"

"Yes, yes, yes. Now, listen up! I need a babysitter. No, I need an army of babysitters. My husband and I will be out of town for one of his business conferences, and we need somebody to mind our son and nephew. We've tried every babysitter, nanny, and au pair in England, but they all ran away screaming when I asked. No doubt this is because my nephew is such a brat."

"HEY! Trying to watch TV, here!" came a loud boy's voice. "Pipe down, will ya?!" Kristy raised an eyebrow and attempted to give the boy one of her patented Looks over the phone. It didn't work. That must be the nephew that the woman was talking about literally five seconds ago. Watching TV, indeed!

"We used to just leave him with the crazy cat lady down the street," continued the woman (after cooing an "Almost done, popkin," presumably to the loud, television-watching boy), "but she had to go to her sister's funeral. Or maybe her sister's cat's funeral. Or it could be her cat's sister's funeral. Or possibly a wedding. I don't know; I try not to listen to that crazy old bat. Anyway, I found the contact information for the Babysitters Club on the floor of that one apothecary where Romeo got the poison to kill himself when he thought Juliet had died. I guess you all must have been in England at some point. Well, it's time for you to come back again!"

"Hold on just a second, ma'am," said Kristy politely. She put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and asked, "Um, guys? When we were England, did we ever visit the apothecary where Romeo purchased the poison that he ended using to kill himself?"

"Hmm… not sure," said Claudia. "What's an apothecary?"

"I don't think that place actually exists," said Stacey. "I mean 'Romeo and Juliet' is a work of fiction. It could just be a place that Shakespeare made up."

"He can't have just made that up!" protested Mallory. "He's a writer, not a liar! William Shakespeare, the greatest barb of all time, wrote a heartrending, tragic, completely true account of his first teenaged love and the dreadful double-suicide that followed!"

Everybody looked at Mallory strangely. "I guess a better question would be, 'what was this woman doing in an apothecary?'" said Kristy. "Could that be why the sister, the sister's cat, or the cat's sister suffered an untimely death? Or possibly got married?"

Now Kristy was the subject of several bemused stares. Mary Anne's widened eyes were slightly wet due to the mention of dead cats. Or she could be crying about the wedding. "You know what… it doesn't matter," said Kristy. "The important thing is, we went to England before. Now, apparently, somebody wants us back."

"Why would they want us back?" asked Dawn, who, like the rest of the girls barring Kristy, had not heard the British half of the phone call and thus had no idea why they received the call. Kristy shushed her and returned her attention to the telephone call.

"I have already attained permission from my nephew's normal babysitter, Mrs. Figg, to put you all up in her house while she is away. It is just down the street from ours. You can take turns sleeping over at our house. Now, the job will be for two weeks, starting next Tuesday, and, quite frankly, we're so desperate to find someone who can handle our nephew that you can name your price."

Kristy's eyes widened. She named the most outrageous price she could think of. "Done," said the woman immediately.

"Wow," Kristy breathed. "How much is that in pounds?"

The woman told her. "Well, that's not as much," said Kristy. "But we'll take it! GIRLS, WE'RE GOING TO ENGLAND!" She screamed the last sentence as the entire room burst into cheers.

"…So, I assume this is for something childcare-related?" asked Dawn once the applause died down.

Before Kristy could answer her, Jessi spoke up for the first time since the meeting began. "You know, there's a lot of Black people in England," she pronounced. "A lot of people don't realize it, because the Queen Mother is White. But they're there."

Everybody nodded solemnly.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, international travel during the summer months took more planning than Kristy and the rest of the BSC had anticipated. The parents, fed up with the constant vacations, field trips, and alien abductions (long story) their children experienced every year, had thrown up their hands in frustration and told their daughters that if they wanted to go to England so badly, they can arrange their own transportation across the pond. "That'll work," Claudia had said. "Just get us across the Atlantic Ocean, and we'll be able to swim across the pond."<p>

Airfare was more expensive than the girls thought. "If only the Junk Bucket could fly," Kristy sighed mournfully.

"It will after Janine finishes her summer project," said Claudia.

"What?"

"Janine's taking some science classes at the college over the summer. She decided to do an extra credit project where she builds a flying machine. Rather than making a machine from scratch, she is using Charlie's car and making it airborne."

"Oh, but we don't have all summer!" said Kristy. "We need to be able to get to England by next Tuesday. I know! What if we helped Janine with her flying machine? That way, it'll get done much faster. And, quite frankly, with your assistance, Claudia, it will wind up looking much prettier as well."

"I can't help with Janine's project. Every single knut and bolt she plans to use is marked with an individually-labeled post-it note saying 'Claudia! Do NOT touch!'"

"Hmm... does it say anyone else's names on these post-its?" Kristy asked.

"Nope, just 'Claudia,'" Claudia replied.

"Well, at least the rest of the BSC can still help her out!" said Kristy brightly. "Oh, I know! Why don't we make it a fun neighborhood project and give all the kids in Stoneybrook a fun summer project?"

"I don't think Janine would..." Claudia began.

"Claud, Claud, Claud, Janine just meant she didn't want _you touching_ her supplies. We can still have other people help her, and you can still provide valuable artistic insight as long as you don't touch anything. I'm sure if Janine had other requirements, she would have clearly listed them beforehand so as to avoid confusion! Between you and me... I know she's your sister and all, but that trait would make her a horrible babysitter." Kristy shook her head sadly. "Ah, well, I suppose it's because she's a genius and all! Now let's round up some kids and get to work!"


	2. Chapter 2

Kristy put her plan into action the very next day. As the secret romantic date between Charlie and Janine turned into a teenaged tryst, Janine's science project, which Kristy had codenamed "Operation Junket to Crumpet," turned into a group project/day care center for all the neighborhood children. The BSC preferred to think of it as a group project. For one thing, Stoneybrook tended to be stuck in the fifties as far as gender roles and would probably balk at the idea of a mother who would rather send her children to day care than stay home with her bundle of joy. For another, Janine's post-it-enforced "Claudia No Touchy" edict would make Claudia a spectator, a creep hanging out just outside the metaphorical daycare center, creepily watching the children play. Indeed, the rest of the BSC, along with some of the older charges, tried to stay away from this line of thought when Claudia called out suggestions for making the flying car "cuter."

Prying the children from their parents had not been as easy as it usually was. A few parents in particular- Watson and Lisa, Mr. and Mrs. Pressiozio, and John and Dee Pike- had all made the girls sign complicated, wordy contracts full of exceedingly small print before they released any of their children to the BSC's charge. The BSC hurriedly signed these contracts, then ushered the children away from the corrupting influence of their living room television in order to work Operation Junket to Crumpet.

The BSC followed Janine's meticulously-sketched plans to the letter, improvising with supplies from their Kid-Kits whenever they came upon a step that they did not understand. Instead of building a second engine, for example, the girls stuck a wind-up toy robot under the hood. They hit a snag when Kristy had one of her famous "Great Ideas" to make the vehicle run on sugar instead of gasoline, both in order to help the environment and to reduce future generations' access to junk food. Stacey pulled all the extra funds out of the BSC treasury, and Dawn, with a manic glint in her eye, purchased all the sugary treats they could afford from the local grocery store. She then dumped them all in the fuel tank.

"Hmm…" said Kristy. "We don't want the sugar to mix with the gasoline and congeal into a syrupy mess. Better add some water to help thin things out. And when we're done with this, we can turn this concept into a health presentation for toddlers in order to help them understand the importance of drinking plenty of water. I'm sure they'll get the metaphor!"

Kristy slammed down the hood, and Dawn, cringing at the poor gas mileage she was certain the Junk Bucket got, used a "borrowed" pair of Charlie's spare car keys to test the Kristy-Improved Engine.

With a "Fffffffft" sound, which Mallory diligently transcribed into the Club Notebook for posterity, the engine engineered for the very last time. There was silence among the rest of the supplies, partly out of respect for their fallen comrade, partly out of fear for their own fate, and partly because they were inanimate objects. "I guess we're gonna need another robot," said Kristy, breaking the silence.

As Jessi withdrew a brightly colored toy robot from her Kid Kit, effectively sacrificing it to the great god Junket to Crumpet, said robot would be shaking in fear if it were capable of such an action. And capable of understanding English, Kristy's propensity for "Great Ideas," the backstory thus far, and its future as a substitute engine in a makeshift flying machine. One thing is for certain. Research has shown that 12% of the population suffers from varying degrees of claustrophobia. So, anthropomorphize that robot at your own risk.

Charlie and Janine would have spent more time together at the now mercifully quiet Big House, enjoying the Karen-free time, but a casual comment from Watson about Karen, David Michael, Andrew, and Emily Michelle helping to improve the Junk Bucket sent both he and Janine sprinting towards the scene of the crime. Although Kristy needed to be chauffeured from Watson's mansion to Claudia Kishi's house (where Charlie had been keeping the Junk Bucket to allow Janine to work on it whenever she wanted), Charlie and Janine were fuelled by the kind of adrenaline that caused mothers to pull cars off babies. One has to wonder why, given her obsession with babysitting and the BSC, Kristy couldn't draw upon this same adrenaline in order to make it to BSC meetings on time without Charlie's assistance. Also, it wasn't exactly far. Stoneybrook was a rather small, tight-knit little stuck-in-the-fifties city. Frankly, even if Charlie's Junk Bucket was salvaged, Kristy could darn well walk the route from her house to Claudia's with or without a sudden burst of adrenaline.

Thanks to the wonders of improvisation, child labor, and keeping Claudia out of touching distance from… everything (and everyone; nobody could forget that daycare metaphor), the project was finished quickly, just in time for Janine to come home and notice the highly-decorated, misshapen monstrosity that her carefully planned science project had become.

First, the positives. The car still had four wheels. This was good. This was according to plan. And… that was about it. There were so many of what appeared to be children's toys under the hood that the hood could not even close all the way. The whole thing smelled like a gas leak. A hush fell over the crowd of children and babysitters. In the silence, a single post-it note blew towards Janine and landed at her feet. She picked it up. The writing was her own; her carefully written scribe forbidding Claudia to touch anything to do with her project. And did she listen?!

"I didn't touch anything, Janine!" Claudia shouted, as if reading her mind. "I just offered some dibble fashion advice! Check it out!"

Janine attempted to take her mind off the structural failure of the Junk Bucket by "checking out" the aesthetics. This was a mistake. The front driver's window as cracked, and there was a smear of what Janine hoped was chocolate across the side of the car. Every clean exterior surface of the car looked like an untidy advertisement for The Babysitters Club. There were at least seventeen attempts to paint the BSC phone number (AKA: the number to her little sister's private line), but most attempts were rendered unreadable by backwards numbers, undeveloped fine motor skills, and, in the case of some of the youngest helpers, acalculia and illiteracy.

And the children! Wasn't this a club dedicated to childcare? Every single child in the BSC's charge looked absolutely filthy and were now engaged in a free-for-all screaming/wrestling match. Janine took a deep, calming breath, narrowly avoiding being knocked over by the Pike triplets plus Nicky as they tumbled on the ground beside her. "Claudia," she said with a strained smile. "Isn't it time the children went home? I think it's getting close to their bedtime."

"Hmm… maybe the younger ones. Though, I'm sure Gabbie is able to handle a later bedtime than most toddlers."

"Claudia," said Janine sternly. "I meant all of them. All of these children should be getting ready for bed."

Claudia sighed gustily and rolled her eyes. "Fine," she moaned. "Even though they were really having fun, I'll help to enforce a rule that they won't enjoy. Wait'll I write about _this_ in the Club Notebook."

The BSC quickly sent the children on their way. After watching to make sure the younger children crossed the street and made it to their respective houses safely (Charlie walked Karen, David Michael, Andrew, and Emily Michelle home.) while the BSC giggled amongst themselves, Janine turned to the gaggle of gossiping girls.

"All the children should be getting ready for bed," she repeated.

"Um… yeah… they are," said Claudia, looking around and seeing none of the BSC charges in the immediate area.

"Not yet. But they should be," said Janine quietly.

Claudia looked at her blankly. Janine raised an eyebrow. All at once, the entire Babysitters Club understood. The girls scattered, sprinting towards their own homes, into the shower, and into bed, where they did not make a peep the rest of the night.


End file.
